


Wishes

by Wwwhat



Series: To Those Who Wait [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Again not a lot happens, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Omega Verse, Parentlock, Sad John, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wwwhat/pseuds/Wwwhat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John thinks maybe he should give up making wishes.</p><p>"John froze his smile in place, nodding at her. He closed his eyes for a second, breathing in again. His friends probably thought he was thinking about what to wish for, but he didn't need to think about it, he'd wished for the same thing every day since- well, just since."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for your feedback and kudos on my other story, it was so nice! Here's a sort of prequel, I'm going to try and figure out how to make it part of a series or collection so hopefully you'll see it linked to my other story.
> 
> Again, I own nothing and no-one they all belong to their original creators.
> 
> Also, I'm not a Dr so I'm hopeful that the scene of John at work isn't too incorrect.

"Happy birthday!" Molly cheerfully announced as John's cake was brought out in the busy restaurant. He forced a grin onto his face as he knew was the expectation. He held the smile as the cake was placed in front of him.

"Wow, um, thanks, thanks guys. This is really, um great," he managed to get out, hoping it sounded sincere even if he didn't feel it. He'd barely wanted to have dinner with Molly, never mind a birthday dinner with the few friends he'd kept up with since- well, just since.

"Wait," Molly yelled as he took a deep breath to blow out the candles. "Remember to make a wish," she smiled at him. 

John froze his smile in place, nodding at her. He closed his eyes for a second, breathing in again. His friends probably thought he was thinking about what to wish for, but he didn't need to think about it, he'd wished for the same thing every day since- well, just since.

"What did you wish for?" Mike grinned at him.

"He can't tell you," Molly said. "It won't come true if he does."

John swallowed hard, nodding a little. "Quite right Molly. Top secret, just in case."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mrs Hudson, despite not being his landlady, had insisted on making dinner for John at least once a week. At least another 3 nights a week she lost her ability to count and made enough food for 3 or 4 people, rather than just one and always thought that John could help her out with it. He knew what she was doing and let her carry on with it, glad that she didn't try to talk to him about why she felt the need to make dinner for him.

They didn't really talk about a lot when they ate together. Mrs Hudson chattered away about the neighbours, her sister, things that shopkeepers had told her about local goings on. He'd chat a little about the surgery, sometimes about Harry and how her latest brush with sobriety was going. Once or twice Mrs Hudson had mentioned seeing Mycroft, always when John was out. John briefly wondered what Mycroft had been there for, but he never asked. He'd only seen Mycroft a couple of times since-well, just since, and that had been for practical reasons only.

"Mrs Hudson?" John called out as he was drying his hand after washing up.

"Yes dear?" She asked, coming back into the kitchen.

"Do you want me to throw these out for you?" He asked, gesturing to the chicken remains. 

"Ooh, not yet,” she said, poking around at it.

John frowned, wondering if his landlady was losing her mind. 

"Ah!" She exclaimed, holding something up. "Here it is. The wishbone." 

John's frown deepened. "Oh." 

"Yes, you'll pull it with me won't you? We used to take it in turns when I was little to pull them with my mother." She smiled softly at the memory, holding the tiny bone with her little finger. She held it out to John.

He hesitated before reaching out and wrapping his little finger around his half.

"Remember to make a wish, dear," Mrs Hudson smiled at him. 

John nodded at her. "Got it." 

They both pulled until the bone snapped. John only realised he'd closed his eyes when he opened them to the sight of the bigger half tucked in the crease of his little finger.

"Oh!" Mrs Husdon smiled at him. "That means your wish will come true! Lucky you, hope it was a good one."

John swallowed thickly. "Yeah, it was..." He cleared his throat, turning to carry on cleaning up, hoping that Mrs Hudson didn't notice him tucking his half of the wishbone in his pocket.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a long day at the surgery when John's last patient came in. Well, was dragged in more like. The boy was very small for his age and had a wet sounding cough that made his tiny body shake. His alpha father had his hand in a firm grip, moving so quickly that the boy had to virtually jog to keep up; his tiny hand was wrapped around what looked like a bunch of weeds.

"Sit down," the alpha barked at the boy, sitting opposite John. 

"Ah...how can I help you today?" John asked, trying to keep his face from betraying his annoyance at the alpha opposite him. 

"Clearly he's got a cough," the alpha sighed.

John watched as the little boy sat quietly in the chair, breathing more heavily than John would like. 

"How long has he been coughing?" He asked the father. 

"I don't know," he sighed impatiently. "I'm only here today because my mate couldn't come. I've been at work all day. Can you just give him some antibiotics so we can get out of here?" 

John took a deep breath to calm his rising irritation. He moved around the desk to crouch in front of the little boy, bringing his stethoscope with him.

"Hi there," he smiled at the boy. "I'm Dr Watson." 

The boy smiled shyly at John before dissolving into coughs again.

"That sounds nasty," John said, putting on an exaggerated frown. "I need to have a listen to your chest to find out what's making you cough. I'm going to use this," he gestured to the stethoscope. "Ok?" 

The boy nodded, blinking at John. 

"Right, can you lift up your t-shirt for me?" John pressed the stethoscope to his chest then moved to listed to his back.

"Well?" The alpha snapped. 

John ignored him, helping the boy put his t-shirt back down. "Thank you." He said to the little one. 

He back in his seat. "Your son has what sounds like a particularly nasty chest infection. He should have been brought in long before it got this bad." He scribbled out two prescriptions. 

"My mate's due to give birth any day now, she couldn't bring him in-" The alpha began, sounding indignant. 

"He's your son too," John interrupted. It really wasn't his place to criticize his patients parenting skills but he couldn't stop himself. He held out two prescriptions to the alpha. "He needs the antibiotics three times a day, and the inhaler morning and night. Please make sure that he takes them. If he's not much improved in about a week then please bring him back." He smiled at the little boy who was playing with the weeds in his hand. "You need to take some medicine to get rid of that cough, but it tastes like strawberry so that's not too bad." 

The boy smiled shyly at him before he was yanked to standing by his father. "Come on," he snapped at the boy. 

The alpha and his son were almost at the door when the little boy wriggled free running back to John holding out his handful of weeds.

"Are they for me?" John asked smiling at the boy. 

The boy nodded handing them over to John. "They're dandelions," he croaked. "Mummy says you blow on them and make a wish." The boy smiled shyly.

"Oscar! Hurry up!" The alpha shouted impatiently. 

"Thank you," John said softly before the boy ran after his father.

As John was putting on his coat to leave he spotted the pile of weeds on his desk. He'd meantto throw them out but found himself leaving the surgery with them, and was still holding them when he reached Baker St. He paused outside 221, lifting the bunch of dead dandelions to his face. He took in a deep breath, slowly blowing the seeds into the air, dropping the stalks on the ground. 

He rubbed his hand over his face. "Pull yourself together John Watson. No more pointless wishes."

 

\-----------------------------------------------------  
So that was that, John decided. He told Mrs Hudson to keep her wishbones for her nieces and nephews, threw dandelion weeds in the compost and refused to wish on the next two lots of birthday candles, until, well...until.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"Make a wish!" John grinned, placing the cake on the table.

"John, should we really be encouraging him to believe in things like wishes?" A deep voice behind him asked.

John turned, grinning at his mate. "Yes, Sherlock, we definitely should." He wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist, pulling him close as he held the cake a safe distance from the cooing and waving one year old in his high chair. "Well, we'll probably need to help you with this one Hamish, but next time maybe you'll be able to do it yourself." 

Hamish shrieked in a way that John thought meant 'Get on with it!’ John held the plate near to his mate, grinning at him. Sherlock leaned in gently blowing the candle out. 

"I hope you made it a good one," John asked, resting the plate on the tray of the high chair. 

"Of course," Sherlock grinned. "I wished for-" 

John silenced him with a kiss. "Shush! You can't tell or it won't come true." 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, trying not to smirk. "John-"

"Nope, you won't convince me otherwise," John grinned, one arm around Sherlock's waist, one hand stroking Hamish's hair.

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a happy shriek, followed by the sound of two baby hands crashing into a birthday cake. 

"Mine!" Hamish exclaimed pressing one hand further into the cake and one into his hair.

John grinned at Sherlock, leaning in to kiss his cheek softly. He turned to their son. "That's right beautiful boy, that's your cake," he leaned in to kiss his forehead. He squeezed Sherlock's hand as the detective moved to cut a small piece of cake for their son. 

"This looks terrible," he said to his son. "You're going to love it." He moved to feed Hamish a small piece of cake, grinning at John as Hamish's face lit up. "I hope you made a wish too Hamish, can't have Daddy wasting them when he's got more than he could have wished for already."


End file.
